Jacaranda
by cupid-painted-blind
Summary: It's every kind of not right, and Katara can't make herself care. / Shameless Zutara, mentions of Kataang and infidelity.


_jacaranda_

when the cherry blossoms start to bloom,  
meet me here in my lonely room,  
we'll find a passion-filled fantasy  
and this time you will stay with me.

This was every kind of _not right._ She was in the Fire Nation as a diplomat, and she had a very loving and sweet boyfriend waiting for her back at, well, she couldn't call it _home_ because it didn't feel especially homey, but it was close enough, and she wasn't supposed to be here or think like this or _want_ like this -

But the way he smiled at her from across the lunch table, completely unlike the way he would smile at a friend, set something within her alight - she couldn't quite say what it was, but the last time she could remember feeling this breathless because of a man's smile, she had been in Jet's arms, ascending a tree. And it was a bad feeling, because she didn't know how to react to it or to him or to - to any of this. All she knew was that he was smiling at her and she wanted.

It hurt. Because she was _Katara_, the Avatar's girl, and because Aang thought he was doing so good at hiding the necklace he was carving for her, and because everyone seemed to think that she should never have a thought about anyone else, ever. And a part of her - the part that was undeniably dismayed when she found the necklace - wanted nothing more than to stay here, like this, forever.

In the Fire Nation. With Zuko smiling at her.

She imagined what it would be like, what it would _feel _like, to fall into his arms, to be treated like a _woman _rather than an exceptionally pretty best friend. And then she felt ashamed, because Aang loved her _so much _and how could she be thinking like this?

"Have you ever seen the jacaranda trees?" She started at Zuko's voice, uncomfortably close to her left ear. He was looking at innocently now, the way he might look at Toph, and she wondered if maybe that look in his eyes was just a trick of the light or a figment of her imagination. "Something wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned, and she laughed - loud and fake-sounding to her own ears, but she pretended not to notice.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. What trees?"

He smiled. "Jacaranda trees," he repeated, "they're in bloom this time of year. It's one of the great sights of the Fire Nation. Come on," he said, taking her arm gently. His hand was warm and calloused, and her heart beat erratically at the touch. The sensible part of her screamed to back away and run, run all the way back home.

But where was home? It wasn't the Southern Air Temple. That was Aang's home, and it was a nice enough place, but the memory of death still clung to its stones and set her ill at ease. And the Southern Water Tribe ceased being home the moment she left to save Aang from Zuko the first time; she had tried to return, but either she or it had changed irrevocably in the time she'd been gone, and she was left feeling like an outcast in her own bed. Oddly enough, it was here that she felt most relaxed. There were plenty of familiar faces, and people treated her with utmost respect, and even though the summer heat was beastly, the wet winters were gloriously cool and comfortable. There were always new things to explore and places to see and people to meet. She enjoyed the Fire Nation far more than she might have expected.

Plus, Zuko was here, always making sure that she had the best of everything the palace had to offer - the best room, the best food, the best garments. He made sure that she felt welcome and accepted, but more than that, he made sure she felt _wanted_. Like the Fire Nation was a better place because she was in it.

It was flattering and it had the desired effect - she felt more at home here than she did anywhere else in the world, except maybe at Iroh's tea shop. So, with nowhere to escape to, she muffled the sensible side of her brain and allowed Zuko to lead her out of the palace, out past the gates, and she chatted easily with him the whole way, about politics and people and the Machinist's new inventions and Sokka's upcoming marriage and Toph's completely-expected exodus from her parents' home ("A little bird told me that she's in Ba Sing Se," Zuko said, laughing, and Katara tried to picture Toph helping Iroh serve tea).

The spring heat was just creeping in, and the mild winter they had just past spelled a brutal summer coming ahead, but Zuko didn't seem to mind - or even notice. Katara, meanwhile, was beginning to wish that she had worn some of the clothing that was stocked in her closet; while a little less modest than what she was used to, the Fire Nation's style of clothing was unequaled in beating the heat. Instead, she was wearing a typical Water Tribe dress, although she'd had the presence of mind to forego the leggings and sleeves.

She still felt sticky, sweaty, and more than a little gross by the time they rounded the last hill and reached the grove.

"Oh," she whispered, all grumbling about stupid heat and stupid clothing decisions and stupid Zuko not even sweating forgotten at the sight of the brilliant purple blossoms. "Oh, they're gorgeous!"

"Aren't they?" Zuko said, grinning, and he reached out to touch one of the boughs, a few flowers falling lazily to the ground. "They were my mother's favorite."

Katara stepped forward and ran a hand across the flowers. "I think I'm in love," she murmured, and Zuko laughed. She whirled around, grinning, and several flowers fell around her like a halo. "These are amazing, Zuko!"

He smiled at her _that way _again, and her heart picked up speed. They were alone, out in the middle of a grove of flowering trees, at the height of spring - which everyone knew was the most romantic time of year - and he was clearly in a good mood. Part of her screamed to _escape escape escape!_ but she swallowed it.

All of her life, she had done was what best for everyone. She had been the mother her family lost, the sister her brother needed, the teacher for the Avatar. She had played the parts because that was what the world needed her to be - Aang had needed her, and she had been there, without question, without argument, for the better part of three years. Any time he called, she came running. Any time she was asked for, she was there. No matter what she personally felt or wanted or dreamed of.

And here she was, flowers in the wind and in her hair, and she wanted something for _herself_. She wanted to touch, to taste, to _feel_ - to be a lover, rather than a mother or a sister or a friend. And Zuko was looking at her like he wanted her and she knew it was wrong, _so _wrong because _Aang_ -

Instead, she took his hand and let him pull her close, and she kissed him, and damn the consequences. She raised one foot and pulled him closer, closer, _closer_, and, for just a moment, she forgot.

Forgot about the world, about the Southern Air Temple, about home being here and nowhere, about the past and the future and all the tangled-up things in-between - in the spring, in the Fire Nation, purple flowers swirling around her, Katara fell in love with the wrong man, in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

And she loved every second of it.

* * *

A/N: Written for Rashaka, who requested fic of this art: (candidaedotdeviantartdotcom/gallery/#/d275wqo) and boy do I wish they would allow links in fics. The lyrics at the top are from Dimension of Love, which is in turn from Tenchi Muyo, which happens to be my favorite cracky harem anime _ever,_ and also really fits this story. Yes, yes, I'm a sap at heart and a Zutarian to boot. The horror! Tell me what you think!


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